


Your Voice

by Illusion_Of_Sea_Axes



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Carolina's health is not doing good, Flashbacks, Gen, Happy Ending, Locus kinda talks with Carolina, No one dies don't worry, Survivor Guilt, This also ignores aspects of canon, and the fact LOCUS IS A WAR CRIMINAL, bad memories, some - Freeform, up in this bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusion_Of_Sea_Axes/pseuds/Illusion_Of_Sea_Axes
Summary: Carolina had once liked to consider Agent Maine her friend. He would take a bullet for her (he had), she would take a bullet for him, they both couldn’t stand Agent Texas, and they’d even shared an AI.Granted, the last part she’d like to forget ever happened. It still ate at her. On the worse nights, her nightmares were the training floor, Maine’s bloodied suit, Sigma’s voice, a pair of tinny, desperate wails that she couldn’t save them-Sigma and Agent Maine were dead.Agent Washington, however, was not.Somehow, Carolina had to make an effort to remember the second part.





	1. Chapter 1

Carolina had once liked to consider Agent Maine her friend. He would take a bullet for her (he had), she would take a bullet for him, they both couldn’t stand Agent Texas, and they’d even shared an AI. 

 

Granted, the last part she’d like to forget ever happened. It still ate at her. On the worse nights, her nightmares were the training floor, Maine’s bloodied suit, Sigma’s voice, a pair of tinny, desperate wails that she couldn’t  _ save them _ -

 

She hadn’t questioned Sigma at the time, she hadn’t thought that maybe giving Maine her AI was a bad idea, but that didn’t matter anymore. Washington had told her to let it go, that she couldn’t have known, and after some time, after Felix and Hargrove, Carolina could almost feel like she had.

 

Sigma and Agent Maine were dead. 

 

Agent Washington, however, was not. 

 

Somehow, Carolina had to make an effort to remember the second part. Especially when Washington was laid out on the bed in front of her, comatose, and in very poor condition.

 

He had been dehydrated and starved in that room alongside Carolina for days (she was almost terrified to ask how long they were down there) but Carolina was getting better. The color was back in her skin and the soreness was going away. Wash was stuck in the pale, bony shape that was accentuated by the hospital gown. The most color in his skin was the freshly healing wounds. 

 

Locus, of all people, was with him when Carolina arrived. 

 

“What are you doing here?” She snapped the moment she entered the hospital room. She had been riding on the victory of stopping Temple and the other simulation troopers. Locus, of course, was now a reminder of their time in the armor lockup. 

 

Trapped in their own protection.

 

Locus was sitting in an armless chair in full armor. Carolina was still getting used to his new paint job. Unlike Carolina, he still wore his helmet in the hospital. 

 

“Observing.” He said simply, looking back to Washington (Carolina guessed, his helmet lacked a visor or any form of eye-holes. How did he even see?), seemingly unaffected by Carolina’s presence. He was armed, but his hands simply rested on his knees. (Who let him into the hospital armed?) His energy sword was clipped to his hip, just like Tucker’s, but the grip was nowhere near as worn. 

 

“Agent Carolina, please try and be a bit kinder to Locus here. He brought in Agent Washington. I dare say, he practically saved his life!” Dr. Grey was probably smiling under her helmet. Agent Carolina didn’t know what situations Dr. Grey took it off and which ones she didn’t.

 

Right, Locus was the reason Wash was still breathing.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me.” Locus said, standing up. “I needed to make things right.”

“Did you?” Carolina asked after a moment. 

 

“... I like to think so.” He said quietly before walking around Carolina. It was like he was expecting her to attack him. “I’ll be leaving now.”

 

“Leaving to where?” 

 

“I’m staying on Chorus, if that’s your concern.”

 

“It’s not,” Carolina said quickly. Locus didn’t answer, he just walked past Dr. Grey and out into the hallway. A Fed soldier leaped out of his way with a squeak. Dr. Grey shut the door before Carolina could observe the aftermath.

 

“He’s nice! Not very talkative, though. Never was.”  Carolina ignored her, moving to stand beside Washington’s bed. 

 

For a moment, Carolina was back in Recovery, standing beside Agent Maine’s bedside, watching his chest rise and fall, listening to the rattle of his breathing, Sigma peering over her shoulder and saying something about Maine’s condition, how  _ lucky to be ali _ \- 

 

“Carolina?” She winced, turning to see Dr. Grey. Not one of the emotionless, robotic-mannered doctors from the Mother of Invention. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Agent Washington should be fine.” Carolina hadn’t asked, but she was grateful for the thought.

 

_ “Agent Maine will recover.” _

 

“Thanks.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Washington talks in his sleep.

 

Carolina already knew that. 

 

The hospital doesn’t shut up, not even at night, and Dr. Grey doesn’t kick Carolina out even when visiting hours end. 

 

Recovery on the Mother of Invention was not the same. It was quiet at night, Carolina could remember that from her experience at least. There’s footsteps outside, distant crying, distant wails, distant laughter, the lights in Washington’s room were dim but the glaring light of the outside was trying to sneak its way through the minuscule cracks around the door.

 

But, even though the hospital doesn’t shut up, Carolina feels like the silence in Washington’s room is deafening.

 

Washington doesn’t talk during the nights in the hospital.

 

This, Carolina hates. 

* * *

 

“How is he?” 

 

Carolina looked up. Washington, sans helmet, was walking over. There was a scar hooked around his left temple. His crazy blonde hair looked slightly tamed by sweat and blood. The guy looked like he needed a long-ass shower. Carolina doubted she looked that much better. 

 

“Sleeping.” Carolina answers as Washington stops at the foot of the bed. 

 

“He is very fortunate.” Sigma chimes in from where he hovered over Carolina’s shoulder. 

 

“What’d the doctors say?” Washington asked, looking tenser than he had when he arrived. Carolina bit back the command that Sigma log off. 

 

“He’ll live, no damage to the brain or anything like that, but…”

 

“But? Shit, I  _ hate  _ that. But what?”  

 

“His vocal chords are fucked to shit.”

 

“Oh… Like, he’s gonna sound like he was smoking cigarettes for the past forty years or-?”

 

“He can’t talk. Presumably. Maybe one day, he’ll figure it out again with physical therapy and all that.”

 

“Presumably?”

 

“He hasn’t tried to talk.”

 

“Shocker there… Guess nothing’s really gonna change.” 

 

“There’s a difference between hardly talking and not being able to talk, Wash.”

 

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess… Do you know sign language?”

 

“No. Do you?”

 

“No. Was hoping you did so you could teach me. Or at least translate.”

 

“Who knows? Maybe the Director will add that to the list of shit we need to learn.”

 

“Hopefully he doesn’t put the Counselor in charge of teaching that.”

 

“Maybe they could give him an AI? You know, to communicate for him?”

 

“They’d need an AI first, Wash. And even then, after all this shit, I don’t even know if he’d be up for it.” 

 

Sigma hummed thoughtfully in the back of her skull.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Carolina expected Tucker to show up shortly after she did, or for one of the Blues to send a message. Maybe even the Reds, probably Simmons. Somebody on the team had to give a shit about Wash and how he was doing. They didn’t.

 

Dylan Andrews did, though.

 

“Hey, Carolina. How are you?”

 

“Good. Not at a risk of collapsing if I stand up too fast.”

 

“That’s good… How is Washington?”

 

“Wash is…” Carolina glanced at the unconscious man. There was a machine breathing for him, feeding him, keeping his body functioning. She couldn’t get over it yet. Dr. Grey didn’t explain why Washington needed the machine, needed all of it, why he hasn’t _ fucking woken up- _ “Recovering.”

 

“Is he far along?” 

 

“No… He, uh… He’s not awake, yet.” 

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, its… Its a bit weird.” 

 

“What about the Reds and Blues?” 

 

“They… I haven’t talked to them. Not recently.”

 

“They haven’t messaged you?”

 

“No… I mean, Caboose or the Reds I’d expect cause I don’t know if they even know how or care really… But, not even Tucker sent a message.” 

 

“Not even Tucker?”

 

“Maybe they’re waiting til he wakes up.”

 

“Maybe… You okay, Carolina?” 

 

“I’ll be fine. How’re you?”

 

The rest of the call, Dylan talked about how she and her husband were getting along and the hijinks of their idiot cats. Carolina didn’t leave Washington’s room. She distantly hoped the chatter about cats, because those were one of the things he still remembered about himself, would bring Washington back to the waking world.

 

It didn’t. 

 

It just made Carolina’s insides hurt a little worse. 

 

But at least Dylan was filling the noise.  

* * *

 

The Reds and Blues vanished off the face of the galaxy.

That was bullshit. They were going to Earth, to get some fucking pizza. Jax was trying to get a movie for the whole shit that went down during what was going to be another few months to the group’s retirement. 

Washington wasn’t even awake to convince Carolina the idea didn’t totally suck.

Carolina was starting to miss his voice.

Maybe she should have recorded it. 

_ “Why would you have done that?” _

_ “I don’t know, Wash, I guess-” _

“I feel like I should have prepared.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

“Agent Carolina, if you don’t eat, I will  _ have _ to force-feed you.” Dr. Grey hummed, not sounding all that unhappy with the concept. Carolina didn’t move from her spot by Wash’s bedside. 

 

The Reds and Blues were gone. To where, who knew. They wouldn’t have retired again without Carolina.

 

Not without Wash. Not without letting them know, at the very least. 

 

A nagging voice in Carolina’s head told her that the only other explanation would be that they were gone. Not gone as in maybe they were captured by some new bastard but more like gone as in the empty-casket, don’t-expect-anything, we’re-sorry kind. 

 

“I’m not hungry.” Carolina answered after a long minute of staring at Washington, trying to claw her way out of a spiral. Dr. Grey had forced her out only a handful of times since Wash’s hospitalization. Those were mainly so she could check on Washington and ensure all the machines were working at peak capacity and his vitals were still okay, although she also wanted Carolina to bathe and get her own health checked on. 

 

“I’ve been keeping a schedule, I know for a fact you are.” Grey answered, taking the seat across from Carolina. There was a tiny table in the corner of the room. Grey shoved the plate to Carolina. It was the most appealing food on Chorus, which didn’t exactly mean a lot, but Carolina supposed she should have appreciated the effort. She should have.

 

“Just because Agent Washington can’t eat doesn’t mean you can’t.” Grey said when Carolina didn’t even reach for the fork. Carolina glared at the woman, but found it hard when she saw that Grey wasn’t wearing her helmet. Her glare dropped to the food.

 

“I’m not-”   
  


“Washington will recover.” 

 

“I  _ know _ that.”

 

“I don’t feel like you do, Miss Carolina. You’re still guilting yourself into just sitting and that isn’t at all healthy!”

 

“I’m not guilting myself.”

 

“Excuse my language, Miss Carolina, but I have to call  _ bullshit _ .” For a moment, Grey sounded like Church, like  _ Epsilon _ . Carolina shook her head. The hallucinations were over. They had to be. 

 

“Carolina. How are you?”

 

“What?”

 

“How are you?”

 

“I’m fi-”   
  


“No one is fine, Carolina. How  _ are _ you?” She repeated the question again, slower, as if Carolina was having a hard time understanding English. That had been one of her first questions at Carolina’s first check-up.

 

“I’m alright.” Carolina answered. That wasn’t true, Grey could see that. Carolina was so tempted to tell her, and she would have if it would solve all her problems. She felt naked without her armor, she felt trapped when she was in it, she felt so damn  _ alone _ and the Reds and Blues weren’t even here to comfort her. She hadn’t seen Locus, she was starting to miss  _ Locus _ , she wanted to hear Wash’s voice, she wanted to hear all of  _ their _ actual voices (not the ghosts), she just wanted to _ talk to him- _

“Do you want to talk about it, Carolina?”

 

Carolina shoved away from the table and was on her feet before she was really processing it because-  _ fuck- _ the Counselor’s  _ voice- _

 

_ “Do you wish to talk about it, Agent Carolina?” _

 

“ _ No _ .” Carolina hissed with far more venom than Dr. Grey deserved (which was none). “ _ I don’t want your fucking psych evaluations-” _

 

Carolina didn’t know if Dr. Grey asked her to come back as she rushed out of Washington’s room and pushed her way to the outside.

 

Carolina didn’t stop moving until the Counselor’s voice stopped bouncing around in her skull, asking her how she was doing, how is her relationship with Agent New York, how is her relationship with Agent  _ Washington, how was she coping without Sigma- _

 

“SHUT UP!” Carolina cried out, dropping onto the ground. The grass, she could feel the sparse patches of grass on her bare skin, and she gripped onto it like it could save her from drowning in her own skull-

 

_ “Agent Washington would surely drown.” _

 

Carolina sucked in a deep breath and looked up. She was currently collapsed a few yards past the entrance to some tiny park that looked to have become a sparring area that someone had then tried to return the park element to. 

 

“Hello, Agent Carolina.” Carolina’s head twisted as Locus approached her. (Had he been cloaking himself or had she just not noticed him?)

 

“Locus.” She greeted simply, feeling her face flush when she realized Locus had probably just witnessed everything that had just happened. She pushed herself to her feet and dusted the grass and dirt off her sweatpants. 

 

Grif had once commented on Carolina’s wardrobe only once, and that was to ask if she owned anything that she didn’t exercise in. She had threatened him with a spork, of course.

 

“How is Agent Washington?” 

 

“Recovering.” Carolina said curtly. She didn’t want to talk about that right now. “What are you doing out here?”

 

“I needed a break from all the people still thinking I’m out to kill them.” Carolina noticed he only had the sword and a pistol on him. His other weaponry was absent.

 

“They bring back some unwanted memories?”  

 

Locus pauses, Carolina can read even his conservative body language enough to get that.

 

“Yes.” He finally says. “I suppose that’s also why you’re out here? Out of armor?”

 

“Yeah...” Carolina hums, idly tapping the pistol that was holstered around her hip. She was never unarmed, which Washington once thought ridiculous. Key word being  _ once _ . 

 

Locus walked over to a bench (it was made out of old weapons crates, they still had their identification numbers painted on them) and sat down. Carolina saw his rifle underneath. 

 

Carolina slowly walked over, taking the space beside him. Locus didn’t tell her to move. 

 

They sat like that for a minute, watching Pelicans and other ships fly overhead, patrols going out and coming in, listening to the distant hum of people exercising for a war that was supposed to be over. A show of force to the UNSC, to remind them that the people of Chorus were not willing to lay down for them. Practically everyone on Chorus was a member of the military, now. Carolina had only seen the elderly (very few) and children (unfortunately, also very few) who weren’t.

 

“Do you still have dreams? You know, about Felix?” The question snakes out of Carolina uninvited and for a moment, she expects Locus to lash out at her. His muscles tense at the very mention of his old partner, just like Wash’s when any of the Reds or Blues mentioned his brief partnership with the Meta. 

 

“Sometimes.” Comes out instead of a threat. “They’re not exactly pleasant.”

 

Carolina could only imagine what kind of nightmares Felix could have spawned in someone like Locus. “Yeah, I know that feeling. It’s difficult to sleep when you’ve got all these… Memories.” Carolina gestured at her head, bitterly reminded of Epsilon once again.

 

“The other members of Project Freelancer?” Carolina nods, even if the name itself seems to beckon to the ghosts more. “Price told me about them… Or, mostly just one.”

 

The name raises bile in Carolina’s throat. She has a guess as to which Locus inquired about. 

 

“Maine?” She finally asks when Locus doesn’t continue. He nods. “What’d he tell you?”

 

For a moment, Locus didn’t speak.

 

“That the Meta and Maine were two separate psyches. I… Before I really knew much about the Meta, I assumed he was the perfect soldier, or at the very least that was his goal, but… It wasn’t.”

 

“What was it, then?”

 

“He wanted to be human.” 

 

A UNSC Pelican hummed overhead. 

 

“At least, that was when he still had Sigma.” Carolina’s hand shifted to the implant site in the back of her neck. 

 

“Yeah...”

 

“Sigma was your AI, right?” Carolina’s stomach twisted.

 

“He was… I… I gave him to Maine, after his accident. We should have just fucking learned sign language.”  A borderline hysterical laugh bubbled out, but it died quickly. 

 

“In battle, it would have been difficult to communicate.”

 

“I  _ know. _ ”

“... What  _ was _ his accident?” 

 

“He got shot in the throat… It was a miracle he survived, but he shouldn’t have  _ gotten hurt in the first place- _ ” Carolina sucked in a breath. Wash and Maine’s faces overlapped in her mind. She shook her head to disperse the image. 

 

“Oh,” Locus seemed to understand everything at that moment. The two of them sat in silence again. Carolina turned her attention on a passing squad. None of them looked in the direction of Carolina and Locus.

 

They remained immersed in the din of the surrounding city of Armonia before Carolina’s stomach growled. 

 

“You haven’t eaten.” Locus commented, earning a look from Carolina. 

 

“Thanks, captain obvious.”

 

“You shouldn’t skip meals, Agent Carolina.” Locus stood up, picking up his rifle from under the bench. “Your body is still recovering.”

 

“I  _ know- _ ”

 

“Come on.” Locus extended a hand, even though Carolina didn’t need it. She took it, rising to her feet. 

* * *

 

Everyone was on edge around Locus. Carolina could understand that, especially considering that she had no idea what his face looked like underneath. The old members of the New Republic gave him a wide berth. Even some of the members from Locus’ ‘side’ were scared of him. 

 

Locus sat Carolina down at a table in the Mess Hall, out of view of most of the other soldiers there. 

 

Restaurants had yet to be re-established in most of Chorus, everyone still ate at the Mess Hall or at the very least got most of their rations from there. The UNSC was offering an in to their trade routes to get some more harder to obtain food to the residents of Chorus.

 

Carolina couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a restaurant. She wondered if Locus had ever been in one.

 

He gave her a ration bar. It wasn’t a whole meal, but he didn’t seem to care. He just wanted her to eat something, she supposed. 

 

“You don’t have to fuss over me.” She said, even as she started to eat. 

 

“I’m not fussing over you.” He answered, not having retrieved any food for himself. That would have meant removing his helmet. “I believe that my rescue of you and Agent Washington would be rendered null if one of you were to drop dead from starvation.” 

 

Carolina took a bite of her ration bar to try and ignore the reminder. “You don’t have to call us Agents.”

 

“The Reds and Blues still do.”

 

“Caboose did,” Carolina corrected. “Even then, he’s forgetting to half the time. We’re not even members of Project Freelancer anymore, there’s no point.” She took out the new bubble of rage on the ration bar. Locus didn’t comment and Carolina tried to pretend her behavior wasn’t even a little childish. 

 

Then what she said sunk in and she felt her mood, however much it had improved, drop. She hadn’t heard Caboose in a while, now. Hell, she was starting to miss  _ Tucker _ .

 

“I will try.” 

 

“Thanks.” She hoped the drop in her spirits didn’t reach Locus. Even if it did, he didn’t talk about it. 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Wash was still asleep when Carolina returned after a full meal (the ration bar reminded her how hungry she really was) and a needed shower. Locus had come by in the morning, mentioned something about a friend he wanted to talk to, and then left her with her thoughts and Dr. Grey once again. 

“Did you eat, Miss Carolina?” 

 

“Yeah,” the plate in front of her still had most of the food on it, but at least she had eaten some of it.  

 

Carolina wanted to curl up on herself and shut down until Wash woke back up, like a robot. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand watching him look so  _ dead  _ with the machines keeping him alive. 

 

“Good.” Dr. Grey said, sitting down across from Carolina again. “Can we talk about what happened yesterday?”

 

Carolina didn’t answer. Some of the hospital staff were starting to stare at her more, since her sudden run the other day. It was the most exercise she had gotten since Washington was hospitalized. 

 

“I understand that you’ve dealt with some unsavory individuals in your life-”

 

“That’s an understatement.”

 

Dr. Grey frowned. “Miss Carolina, I apologize for being a reminder for a terrible past experience.” 

 

Carolina took a moment. “What?”

 

“I apologize.”

 

“You… You don’t have to apologize, Dr. Grey. I- I shouldn’t have responded like that I was just… It’s been a few stressful days.”

 

“I know, I’m sure Agent Washington’s injury was a traumatic-”

 

“Will he be able to talk?” 

 

“Huh?”

 

“When- When he wakes up? Will he be able to talk?”

 

“At first, it may be a bit difficult and ill-advised, but yes, he should. Why?”

 

Carolina looked over to Washington, Maine’s unconscious form layered over his for just a moment.

 

“Just a concern.”

* * *

  
  


Even with Dr. Grey’s words, Carolina couldn’t get rid of the nagging. They took Wash off the breathing machine, but that just meant there was nothing to block out the sound of him breathing on his own.

 

Her heartbeat would race whenever Wash would breathe too ragged, too close to  _ Maine- _

 

It drove her up the walls. She found a training ground right outside the hospital. Not a very intense one, but Carolina was satisfied to take her rage out on a punching bag that had been patched up plenty of times.

 

Dr. Grey didn’t want her to run laps or other super strenuous activities (which was bullshit, she was fine). In-place boxing practice wasn’t out of the question, though, and Carolina needed to take her rage out on  _ something _ .

 

_ “You should show my squad some of the basics.” _

 

_ “Oh yeah?” Carolina pants, still going. Left, right, overhead kick. The practice dummy is slightly harder than human skin, softer than armor plates, perfect texture of some asshole in a kevlar suit. _

 

_ “Yeah.” _

 

_ “Where the hell would they even use it? Last I checked, this war isn’t in need of special ops.”  _

 

_ Maybe she imagines Washington’s wince, maybe she imagines Epsilon’s buzz of concern, maybe the kicks get a bit more forceful. _

 

_ “Just a thought.”  _

 

Only a handful of soldiers pass through the training ground, and none of them stay long once they see Carolina’s face and the absolute rage she takes out on the punching bag. There’s no real strategy in her punches, it’s just impact after impact, and she tries to remember the last time she got to just rain hell on anything with no concern. 

 

Even with that, some part of her brain whispers  _ right hook, kick, right hook, left  _ in a voice that sounds eerily similar to way too many people. 

 

She only stops when her throat goes dry and her arms are burning way too much to continue. There’s a sense of familiarity in the aching of her arms, in having something to attack, and she breathes out in some form of relief. She looks around for a drink before she recalls that she had stormed up here, she’d barely had the sense of mind to wrap her knuckles, and definitely didn’t think of grabbing a drink. 

 

A water bottle flies through the air and Carolina barely avoids punching it and catches it instead.

 

Locus stands nearby, arms folded, and for once Carolina can see his face and whatever words she had planned for the fool who thought it was wise to throw a water bottle at her go out the window.

 

She hadn’t imagined Locus’ face in any major detail, she’d never thought to, but it wasn’t exactly what she was expecting to see.

 

He had a square jaw, dark skin, long hair (definitely didn’t expect that), and an X shaped scar that was very reminiscent of his old paint job. It fit into his voice. 

 

“Huh.” Comes out. Better scenario than the last time she had run into him, at the very least. She took a big drink of the water. 

 

“Hello, Carolina.” He pauses before he says her name, remembering her request. “I figured you would be out here.”

 

“Grey told you?”

 

“Yes… I thought you were still recovering-”

 

“It’s been weeks.” Carolina is slowly learning to hate the word ‘recovery’ and all its forms. She drinks some of the water. “I’m fine.” 

 

“Physically.” He adds, as if he needs to remind Carolina, or maybe he was just observing. 

 

“Yeah, physically.” Mentally, she (and Wash) were going to be recovering until they died. That was just a given fact at this point. She flexes her hands, her arms, trying to gauge how long until she can jump back into training from this data alone.

 

“Grey says Wash’ll wake up by next week, at latest.” Carolina says, more to herself than to Locus because why the fuck would he care?

 

“That’s good.”

 

“Yeah, it’s just taking so fucking  _ long _ .”

 

“The injury was rather severe-”

 

“I know.” She’s been saying that a lot lately. “But, I just… He bounced back, all the time. That was basically his thing.”

 

Locus didn’t answer this time. 

 

Carolina went back to the punching bag. When she took another break, Locus was gone. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Washington woke up a few days before expected. Which, wasn’t an issue, considering Carolina was almost living in that room with him. However, it nearly gave her a heart attack when she was eating a late breakfast. 

 

There was the hum of the machines, the lights, the din of the hospital, and Washington’s steady breathing. A calm background noise that she was now used to. Until it was interrupted.

 

A deep, painful rasp that made Carolina leap to her feet before she even knew the source, her fork wielded like a three-pronged knife (which, according to an old, absurd conversation of Grif’s, it was) until she realized it was  _ Wash _ .

 

She dropped the fork on the table and was by his side in a flash, watching as he sucked in a deep breath, eyes open and awake and  _ alive _ -

 

“ _ Wash _ .” Comes out and, even as he tries to stifle a coughing fit, Wash responds to it. He looks at her, clearly tired even though he’s been asleep for  _ weeks- _

 

“Hey,” Washington croaks. 

 

Carolina freezes, processing for one long moment that Wash- Washington’s voice- it sounds so different and the same and it makes Carolina’s hands shake. 

 

“You asshole!” She cries, because she’s crying, and Washington actually looks surprised that Carolina’s actually crying. It takes a moment of thought to remember she can’t hug Wash. She clutches his hand to her chest instead.

 

“Carolina?” 

 

It’s music to her ears. The horrific growls of the Meta, of Sigma’s crooning, all of it withers away in the face of Washington’s voice. 

 

“It’s good to hear your voice again.”  

 


End file.
